


Whatever You Want

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Demisexual Poe, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 13:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9898832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Is this okay?” Finn asked.Poe wanted to laugh, because the question was a little ridiculous, and the answer so obvious.  But Poe understood why Finn was asking it so he just nodded, and squeezed his hand a little.  “More than alright.  You can…Finn you can touch me anywhere, however you want.  Any time.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble, trying to get my bearings with this ship. I have a longer fic with them coming up.

Poe hesitated at the door, his hands sweating under the small bowl he carried. It was hot—not hotter than a lot of places they’d travelled, but he’d been looking forward to a reprieve and hadn’t gotten it. He’d been off-world for so long, and a huge bit of him had been desperate to come home to a miracle.

Finn was awake, and he had to count that. He knew modern medical advances were good, but they weren’t god. No one could blink, or push a button, or fill a bacta-tank and suddenly it would be like the injury never happened. They could heal Finn’s back, but he was still a human.

It was maybe one time in his life Poe found himself wishing Storm Troopers were more than human. If only to spare Finn the struggle.

Finn had been brought up strong, and self sufficient, but he’d grown up finding himself expendable. Storm Troopers were meant to fight and die, not fight, become injured, and have to nurse themselves back to health. They were numbers in a programme. If one was compromised, they were disposed of.

Finn had no means—mentally—to combat a recovery.

But he was trying.

Fucking bless him, he was trying.

Poe would leave the room after Finn’s physical therapy sessions, allowing the younger man to vent, to cry, to hate the world and himself, and the black-masked son of a bitch who did that to him. Then he’d come in when Finn was calm and sleepy, and they’d exist together. Then Poe would get up and run drills with his team, and Finn would take his chair down to physical therapy and try to get his brain and his legs to co-operate again.

Over. And over. And over.

It was a never-ending roundabout of bullshit and Poe was trying to keep calm. If Rey was back on-world, maybe it wouldn’t feel like this. Maybe if there wasn’t another war looming, if they weren’t sat round waiting for some word that the First Order was regrouping—because they would, oh they would—Poe was no fool—it would be easier to shoulder.

He braced himself, pressed his forehead to the door, then swiped his badge and was let in.

These quarters were nicer than the ones he’d had before. He was a hero, of sorts, so he expected the upgrade and the promotion. Rey had rooms there too, and Finn had his own, but after the first few nights of being conscious and terrified, Poe stopped sleeping in his own bed, and they just never spoke of it.

They were teetering on the edge of something. Finn was no blushing virgin, and Poe had been in love exactly twice before in his life. Being demi-sexual was no big thing really, even if he’d had to explain it to Finn whose sex education in the First Order consisted of experimenting and fumbling during off time. Finn seemed to get it, though he didn’t quite get the concept of being in love, and he found himself confused by his feelings, but they were all content with each other presently.

Poe had worried once Rey and Jessika had started holding hands and kissing over their morning caff but Finn only smiled, and Rey hadn’t stopped crawling into his lap at night, and reading to him because it calmed them both.

So it was good.

For what it was.

The main quarters were empty, but Poe heard the Sonic switch off a second later, and the quite whirr of Finn’s chair. He let himself wait, staring at the bright yellow and red pieces of fruit in the bottom of the bowl he’d brought as a treat. They didn’t get a lot of fresh produce on base—it was difficult to grow, and they’d been moving too often to really cultivate a proper crop, so this had been a surprise when Wedge returned with these in the supplies.

Poe had only had them a few times. They’d been his mother’s favourite. A strange fruit both spicy and sweet, leaving a warmth just under the skin after you consumed them. They’d have them in winter, mostly, curled up under a blanket. He’d suck on the mealy bits and listen to her talk about her star travels and envisioned himself doing that one day.

He hadn’t pictured any of this, but he couldn’t say he was disappointed in where his life had brought him.

He heard Finn clear his throat and he knew he’d been spotted.

He pushed into his sleeping quarters and found Finn already on the bed. He was sat up, a datapad on his lap, scrolling through the latest announcements. Nothing yet. No news. No nothing. Rey was with Luke and no messages—but then again they hadn’t expected much this early on.

“Hey bud.”

Finn blinked a little sleepily, which meant he’d taken something for the pain. “What is that? Smells weird.”

Poe looked down in the bowl, then up at Finn’s curious face. He felt a special sort of affection for the way Finn often times just spoke whatever was on his mind without trying to censor himself. He’d spent so long having to speak a certain way, having to hide his true intentions, how he felt, that it had taken time for him to be open.

“Wedge brought this in,” Poe said. He toed out of his boots, kicking them under the bed, then shimmied out of his trousers with one hand. Kneeling on the bed, he shifted on top of the covers, then set the bowl between Finn’s knees. “It’s fruit.”

Finn stared down. “Okay.”

“I know it was a shitty day, so I thought we could use a little treat.” Poe reached into the bowl and picked up one that was more red than yellow—meaning it would have a little more spice to it. He bit down onto the side, then sucked the juice out. “You can eat it,” he said, his voice muffled by it, “but the juice is the best part. Go for the yellow one.”

Finn poked it, then grimaced. “It’s sticky.”

Poe laughed, already feeling the warmth seeping under the pads of his fingers. He dropped his own in the bowl, then went for a bright yellow piece and held it up, just an inch from Finn’s lips. “Trust me?”

Finn sighed, but the corner of his mouth quirked. “Usually. Never really gets me where I want to go but…”

“Shut up and try it,” Poe said with a full grin.

Finn opened his mouth, and Poe edged the fruit in. He watched as Finn’s teeth bit down, then his lips closed, and he sucked on it.

The sensation, the noise, the motion, were doing things to him. He shifted, but didn’t move, though his breath hitched when Finn’s tongue darted out and chased a stray drop of the juice running down Poe’s thumb.

He pulled back and stared. “Well?”

“Strange,” Finn said, his voice a little heavy. “Good but…strange. Feels…”

“Yeah.” Poe dropped the fruit, then started licking his fingers until he saw the way Finn’s eyes had gone wide, pupils blown. He dropped his hand, swiping the rest on the side of his half-buttoned shirt. “Yeah I…” He didn’t protest when Finn leant over and put the bowl next to their lamp.

“Poe.”

He went silent. His jaw snapped shut with a click, and he sat back as Finn readjusted himself against the pillows. He was slightly turned toward Poe, one hand gripping the sheets, the other hovering inches above Poe’s abdomen.

“Poe.”

“Yeah, buddy?” Poe managed to make himself say. Very carefully, very slowly, he pressed his hand over Finn’s, and brought them both down until Finn’s was splayed against his stomach. He slotted his fingers between Finn’s and held tight.

“Is this okay?” Finn asked.

Poe wanted to laugh, because the question was a little ridiculous, and the answer so obvious. But Poe understood why Finn was asking it so he just nodded, and squeezed his hand a little. “More than alright. You can…Finn you can touch me anywhere, however you want. Any time.”

Finn nodded, and gulped. He wriggled his arm away from Poe, then brought his fingers up and brushed them along the five o’clock shadow on the cut of Poe’s jaw. His nails, blunt and short, dragged over the skin with a slight shufft sound, and Poe let his breath out, a little shaky and hot.

“Can I?” Finn asked.

“Yes,” Poe said, prepared to say yes to everything, anything, he didn’t care.

Finn brought his face in close, lips almost brushing, but not quite touching yet. It took every bit of Poe’s restraint to stay still, to let Finn have this control. This would not be Finn’s first kiss, nor would it be Poe’s. But it was definitely Poe’s most important, most wanted.

Finn licked his lips, then cupped Poe’s cheek, and closed the distance.

It was short, closed-mouthed, sweet. Soft lips against Poe’s, a little push-pull seeking and exploring, and then he pulled away. It was over, Poe could tell, but it was enough. For tonight, for forever. It spoke novels of a story that Poe had wanted to hear, and that was all he needed.

Reaching over, he flicked off the light, and the two of them settled onto the bed.

“I want to do that again,” Finn said in the quiet of the dark room.

Poe laughed, tugging at Finn’s arm until they were wrapped against each other. He brought Finn’s hand to his lips, pressing kisses across his knuckles, to the pads of his fingers, the centre of his palm. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Yeah?” Finn asked.

“Whatever you want,” Poe reminded him.

“Whatever I want.” He could feel the curve of Finn’s smile against the back of his neck as Finn kissed him there, then dragged his lips up into his curls, burying his nose in them until his breathing evened out, and he was asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [ualmostshotme](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ualmostshotme)


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